


Tomorrow

by Jenna Hilary Sinclair (JennaHilary)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:39:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaHilary/pseuds/Jenna%20Hilary%20Sinclair
Summary: The night before James Kirk bonds with Spock





	Tomorrow

I'm only human.  
I don't know about minds joining in eternal union, or  
What the kiss of your spirit against mine is going to feel like.  
I've never visited anything like the Hall of Ancient Thought.  
We humans aren't sure of immortality, although I am convinced we do have something like souls.  
The bond we'll share soon—tomorrow—is yet a mystery to me.

I've talked to my mother about the bonding.  
She fears loss of personality, as if we two would become one merged creature, unrecognizable, unlovable.  
I fear  
loss of you,  
your death in the grip of an unmated pon farr,  
your unhappiness in the hands of a mate who does not understand your sylvan soul.  
I think I can make you happy. I know you do that for me. 

Bones doesn't understand either. For some reason he can't see through my eyes.  
You aren't pig-headed—maybe a little stubborn now and then, but I like people who know their own minds.  
You aren't fixated on things over people, although sometimes things are a retreat for you when the world gets too hard. Bones should understand that. The purity of numbers is what you use instead of our Good Doctor's occasional retreat to the bottle.  
And God knows you aren't emotionless. Anybody who has had the honor to stand within the circle of your arms as you kiss them will attest to that.  
But I can't say that to Bones. 

So my mother and my best friend are really worried about the ceremony tomorrow, and I don't know how to reassure them.  
Only one other human has ever joined with a Vulcan in this most intimate of mergings, and I don't think a heterosexual joining can be compared to what we are going to have.

What we are going to have.  
I don't fear it.  
You're like a drug in my systerm I can't do without, did you know that?  
Unfamiliar Vulcan mysticism that might do who-knows-what with my brain: no problem.  
Possible loss of personality if my will is absorbed by yours: no problem.  
Allying myself—for the rest of my life—to an inflexible, computerized, unfeeling Vulcan: no problem. 

None of that is going to happen. 

You'll turn to me with your hot gaze and your hotter hands, and your fingers will settle on the sides of my face.  
I'll stare at you and know that those moments are the best in my life. The truest. The most courageous. Defining who I am.  
Because I'm not me anymore without you. 

Come to me, Beloved.  
Give me your soul as I give you mine.  
Give me your thoughts as you know my feelings.  
Give me your body, your sweet lips and your driving passions, and I will cool your fires whenever you burn. You will be safe with me.

Just…don't go away. Don't ever go away. Stay with me now  
And for all the days to come that are granted to us.  
Stay in the rushing waters of springtime and in the rejoicing life of summer and in the wise evaluation of autumn and  
The slow whispering fall of winter snow.  
Stay with me and  
I will stay with you.

The bond will compel it, but my heart is the guarantee.  
No words. Just the touch of your fingers and the beat of my heart,  
As we stand facing each other in this quiet cabin on the _Enterprise,_  
On the night before our bonding.  
Do you perceive what my heart says? Can you hear the slow, lumbering cadence of the only-human?  
I love you.  
I love you.  
I love you.


End file.
